


The Day Orange Soda Saved a Life

by BergaraHoe (flannelfeelings)



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Action, Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Confessing Feelings, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jake Peralta Loves Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago - Freeform, Jake peralta is endlessly frustrating, Jake peralta loves orange soda, Love Confessions, Mentions of murder and poison for a case theyre working on, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Peraltiago, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Season 2, Solving crimes, Takes please in s2, Typical cop danger, amy santiago - Freeform, cases, jake peralta - Freeform, protective Amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flannelfeelings/pseuds/BergaraHoe
Summary: For Amy Santiago, it's easier to deny the way she feels about Detective Peralta. Push her feelings down into a little box and never let him know the truth.But when Jake's life is in danger, she's unable to help admitting her feelings, though she has no idea if it will even matter.She should know better than to doubt Jake Peralta.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 3
Kudos: 120





	The Day Orange Soda Saved a Life

**Author's Note:**

> aight aight so this takes place in s2 post teddy and sophia but isnt canon compliant with how these two get together   
>  just thought this was a fun idea!!  
> sorry for any mistakes i have no beta reader also i am not in law enforcement so im sure i got tons of procedure wrong but its fanfic so pls take it easy lol 
> 
> i hope you enjoy and lmk ur thoughts!

“Santiago, I dare you to do the entire interview in a Scottish accent.”

Amy felt herself sighing at the words of her obnoxious coworker, Detective Jake Peralta. Just as her knuckles had moved to knock on their witnesses door, he snorted out a laugh and offered up the stupid dare.

“Peralta, why don’t we just take this possible murder seriously, and interview the witness like actual detectives?” She suggested with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh c’mon, the dude died of natural causes. The only reason Holt stuck us on this lame case is because he’s mad at me for spilling soda in his office, and you’re my designated Jakey-sitter.” His ability to remain frustrating even in serious situations was one of the things that Amy begrudgingly found endearing about him.

She couldn’t help but admire the charm in his snarky little smirk; but she quickly shook it off. Yes, he was single and so was she now that Teddy and Sophia were out of the picture...but that didn’t mean anything. The awkwardness between them had finally dissolved back to normal. He’d definitely gotten over the feelings he’d professed for her before his undercover mission, and she definitely wasn’t going to get involved with another cop.

Especially not one as ridiculous as Peralta.

The “lame” case they were currently working on was pretty open and shut; Henry Stinson, a restaurant manager in his late 60s had died in his sleep two nights prior. There were no signs of forced entry, no signs of trauma to the body, and no murder weapon. However, Holt wanted the department to follow through with due diligence, so Jake and Amy had interviewed almost every employee at the small restaurant.

Their interviews were nearly over, just one left before they could finally finish their assigned door duty. They’d be speaking with Joshua Ramos, the last employee left to talk to. Then they’d just wait for the autopsy report to come back and confirm what they already knew: natural causes.

However, that didn’t mean they weren’t supposed to take this assignment seriously.

“You shouldn’t have soda in his office anyway.” Amy pointed out smugly.

Jake rolled his eyes, pulling a mini can of orange soda from the pocket of his leather jacket, “Always keep an emergency stash on me, sour worms too. It’s my last meal, and you know, we face death every day doing this.”

“You’re psychotic, Peralta.” Amy shook her head and knocked on the apartment door.

The door swung open to reveal a man in his mid forties with dark curly hair and wide, surprised eyes, “How can I help you?”

Amy and Jake both exposed their badges, and Jake said, “NYPD. Got a minute to talk about Henry Stinson?”

Joshua nodded, “Of course, come on in.”

The interview went pretty smoothly, just like the others had. Joshua confirmed what they had already heard from everyone else; Henry was a great guy and there wasn’t anyone who’d want to hurt him. He was older and had some breathing trouble. He made no enemies in his time at the restaurant. In fact, he was such a good manager that often his employees would bring him gifts, homemade pies or crocheted hats. It seemed that Stinson was beloved in their workplace.

By the time their twenty minute interview was over, Amy was ready to leave. The apartment had a musty smell, and the decor was off-putting. He’d paired a lot of brown furniture with ugly yellow shelving, and decorated with a barrage of hideous flowers. If Amy didn’t know any better, she’d think he was living in a greenhouse.

“Well, guess we can go tell Holt that we wasted a whole day with useless interviews.” Jake mused as they exited the apartment building toward their departmentally issued car.

Amy snorted, “No police work is a waste, Jake.”

“Ha!” He moved for the driver side door, but Amy shot her arm out to cut him off before he could open it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

Jake glanced at her inquisitively, quirking an annoying eyebrow up, “Most people call it getting into the car?”

“I’m driving back!” she insisted, “You drove to all the witnesses house, it’s my turn to drive.”

“Oh c’mon Santiago, are you twelve?”

“Jake you text and drive, you tailgate, and you speed! I am not risking my life anymore!” Amy held her hand out for the keys demandingly, “Give me the keys!”

“No!” He snapped childishly, clutching the keys to his chest, “It’s my undercover, I’m driving!”

“The department owns it!” she hissed, reaching to snatch the keys from his hands. He shoved her off, scowling.

“Stop being a control freak and get in the car, Santiago.”

Amy crossed her arms, frowning, “If you’re driving, I’m not getting in.”

Jake snorted, “Fine.” He opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine. He cranked the window and glanced out at her, “Last chance.”

Amy stood her ground.

“Your loss.” With a shrug, Jake rolled the window up, and pulled the car out onto the road, leaving Amy staring behind in disbelief.

He’d actually left her there?!

Of course he had, he was Jake Peralta. She should've known better than to expect decency or cooperation from him. He was bullheaded and obnoxious and selfish. With a groan of frustration, she set off on the 25 block walk back to the precinct.

* * *

Amy made it back to the precinct shortly after, her annoyance mounting with each step. It was an easy walk, she always knew to wear work appropriate shoes as their job could be physically demanding. But she was angry at Peralta for ditching her there.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected though. He just knew how to get on her nerves.

When she walked into the bullpen ready to tear Jake a new one for leaving her, she was surprised to find his desk empty. She glanced over her shoulder at Rosa, who was passing by with a folder.

“Hey, Diaz, have you seen Jake?” she asked curiously. He definitely should’ve beaten her here driving.

“Yeah, DNA prints came back on some items in Stinson's apartment.” Rosa explained, “Looks like there were some things in his kitchen that one of the witnesses touched. We called before he got back and Jake went to go canvas the witnesses building, see if we missed anything.”

Amy frowned, “I mean, he worked with them and it was common of them to give him gifts, it’s not unusual that their prints would be in his place. Why is that worth double checking?”

Rosa shrugged, “Holt asked him to be thorough. I thought you were with him, why are you here?”

Sighing, Amy shook her head, “Because my partner is an ass. I’ll wait here for the autopsy results. I doubt Jake’s gonna find anything anyway.”

* * *

About thirty minutes after returning to the precinct, Amy’s phone finally rang. She’d been waiting on a call from the medical examiner for over 24 hours, so she was relieved to finally pick up the phone and hear the coroner’s voice on the other line.

“So we have a cause of death.” came the peppy voice of the M.E.

“Great.” Amy was fairly certain she was going to hear the words _“natural causes.”_

“Henry Stinson was poisoned.”

“What?” the detective could hear the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah, from what we can tell, Stinson was poisoned with ricin. It’s a fairly potent poisonous substance that can be made from castor beans. Usually in the form of a tasteless, odorless powder. Looks like we’ve got a murder here, Detective Santiago. I’ll fax you the full report.”

“Thank you.” Amy said, still in disbelief as the line disconnected.

Moving quickly, Amy grabbed the file of crime scene photos from Jake’s drawer, combing through until she found the images from the kitchen, and one from Stinson’s bedroom. On his end table beside the bed, was an empty mug. The contents were presumed to be tea, but there was not enough liquid left to run toxicology.

Moving to the photos of the kitchen, her eyes combed through the contents of the pantry. The picture wasn’t high quality, and she could only see the front layer of items on the shelves, but a small burlap bag in the corner of the top shelf caught her eye. It looked like a pouch for homemade tea. A gift from one of his employees?

Amy quickly searched all the info she could find on “castor beans” eyes combing through the results to find something of use. A picture caught her eye. A reddish green leafed plant that was the result of sprouting castor beans. Where had she seen that plant before?

Instantly, she was reminded of the overcrowded amount of plants hanging in Joshua Ramos’ apartment, earlier today. She remembered thinking some of them were a bit odd. And she’d definitely seen one that looked like the photos of the castor bean plant.

Her mind was working a mile a minute. Had Ramos concocted a batch of homemade tea with ricin in it, and gifted it to Henry to poison him?

“Rosa.” Amy stood from her desk and approached her coworker, “Whose prints did they lift off the stuff in Stinson’s apartment?”

Rosa frowned, “Don’t remember his name. Boyle had the file, he just told me about it.”

Amy twirled around and rushed across the bullpen to Boyle’s desk, “Hey Charles?”

He glanced up from the case file he was working on (Amy caught a glimpse of some brutal murder scene photos) and smiled at her, “Hey Amy.”

“Did you get some info on the Stinson case today? The one we thought was open and shut?” She couldn’t help the urgency in her voice, but she needed to confirm her suspicions and call Jake before he went back to Ramos’ alone.

“Oh yeah you and Jake were out so I got the call about some prints.” Boyle licked his thumb and index finger and began combing through the pile of manilla folders on his desk, “Here you go.” He passed a fax from the lab to her.

Amy quickly scanned the words, and noticed that their DNA match was for Joshua Ramos. He had a prior misdemeanor for drunk and disorderly, and his prints were on some miscellaneous items in the kitchen. Amy would bet money that if they tested it, his prints would be on the bag of tea as well. She made a mental note to call today and have that test arranged.

“Thanks Charles.” She nodded at him and pulled out her cell phone, walking back to her desk and she dialed Jake’s number.

“C’mon Peralta...answer….” Amy gnawed on her lower lip as the phone trilled in her ear.

_Ring….ring...ring…_

“You got Jake, talk to me.”

She sighed in relief at the sound of Jake’s voice, “Jake, it’s Amy-”

“Sike! It’s a voicemail, are you a grandpa? Better luck next time!” and then, a painfully loud _**BEEP**_.

Of course.

Still, there was a protocol here, and despite her frustration, she wasn’t going to just not give him the info, “Jake, it’s Amy. The M.E. got back to me, Stinson was poisoned. I think Ramos is our guy. Don’t go back there alone, and call me when you get this! I’m on my way.” She ended the message and grabbed the keys to her assigned car.

Amy rushed for the stairs, knowing the slow drag of the elevator would be unbearable when she had to reach Jake before anything happened.

Luckily, Ramos’ apartment was only a few miles away. She cursed quietly as she saw Jake’s car was parked on the street outside, empty. She got out and made for the front entrance, drawing her gun as she entered the stairwell and took them two at a time to reach Ramos’ floor.

When she reached his floor, Amy tucked her back against the wall, sliding down it carefully as not to be seen. Gun drawn and pressed against her midsection with caution, Amy braved a glance at the small rectangular window beside Ramos’ front door. Luckily it wasn’t obscured by curtains or blinds.

A small relief burst through her chest at the sight of Jake sitting on Ramos’ loveseat, laughing and chatting with the other man. Ramos’ back was to her on the opposite plush chair, but Jake was visibly unharmed.

He still wore his dark leather jacket, and his hair was a little messy, probably from running his hands through it. He did that when he was upset.

Amy didn’t have time to ponder what had upset him enough to mess up his hair, because her eyes were zeroing in on the mug in Jake’s hand. Ramos could have figured out they were on to him, and was trying to get rid of the loose ends with more ricin tea.

_No...no...no!_

Before she could move, Jake had brought the mug to his lips and taken a large sip. He must not have gotten her message.

Protocol abandoned, Amy’s boot crashed into the knob of the apartment door, slamming it in. The door hit the wall with a loud _crash!_ And she entered the apartment with her gun trained on Ramos.

“NYPD!” she shouted, per regulation, “Joshua Ramos you’re under arrest for the murder of Henry Stinson.”

Ramos stood, wide-eyed with his hands up. Jake’s brows lifted and he scrambled to his feet, sloppily grabbing handcuffs from his belt and approaching Ramos.

“And I thought we were becoming _friends._ ” Jake shook his head with mock-offense as he grabbed Ramos’ wrists and wrangeld them behind his back with the cuffs, “Why’d you do it?”

“Jake.” Amy interrupted, unable to help the panic coursing through her body at the knowledge that Jake may have just drank poisoned tea, “Now isn’t the time to-”

“Hold on now Ames.” Jake held up a maddening finger for her to wait, “I wanna know how it all went down. Tell me Joshy.”

“Henry was a snake!” Joshua hissed, “He did everything he could to edge me out of being promoted to manager. He lied to upper level management, he got me demoted, he almost got me fired! But they always listened to him. Everyone thought he was _so_ great.” Ramos scoffed, “Well, who gets his job now?”

Jake pursed his lips, “Not you, buddy. You’re going to prison.”

“Jake,” Amy started again, trying not to freak him out but also needing to get him to a hospital, “Why don’t we get going-”

“Wait, I still don’t know how you did it.” Jake looked back to Ramos, “There was no trauma to the body, no signs of forced entry...how’d you do it?”

Ramos smirked, “I gave him a bag of ‘homemade tea’ as a peace offering. Once he drank it, well, he never woke up.”

Amy didn’t miss the way Jake’s face paled a bit at the mention of tea, “Homemade.. _.tea_ …” he glanced behind them at where he’d set his mug down on the coffee table.

Ramos smirked, “Yeah. You won’t feel it for a few minutes, but once it hits, you die pretty fast. Don’t worry, it’s painless. Doesn’t it feel like such a rush? Knowing you’re moments away from death?”

“Cool, cool cool.” Jake was nodding nonchalantly, but it was clear he was centimetres away from losing it.

“Jake.” Amy finally said in a stern voice, “Why don’t we call for backup to bring Ramos in and you and I will swing by the hospital?” She tried to keep her voice level and not let on just how panicked she was.

“No point now.” Ramos shrugged, “It’s already too late for your boy here.”

“Shut up.” Amy growled at him. She grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the windowless bathroom where they could stand guard, slamming the door behind her. She turned to Jake.

“Hey, Peralta, it’s gonna be okay. Let me just radio for backup and we’ll-”

“Don’t call for backup, there’s no need.” Jake shook his head.

Amy wanted to grab him and drag him out of here to the hospital by his hair. But as much as she wished she could comfort him, she honestly didn’t know if it was too late. The research she’d skimmed seemed to allege the effects of the poison didn’t take long. And she didn’t know when Jake had started to drink his tea.

No. Jake couldn’t _die._

There were still so many things she needed to say to him, like, how she loved the way he could make her laugh even when they dragged through the awfulness of being an NYPD detective. Like how she knew underneath all his stupid joking and obnoxious braggadocio that he was a kind person, who always put others first. That when she found out Sophia left him, all she wanted to do was go over to his place and hold him, to make him feel better. That seeing his smile every morning was sometimes the only thing that made long days bearable.

That she was in love with him. That she wanted to be with him.

“Jake-” Amy’s voice came out choked, strangled, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Jake offered her a small smile, “Listen, Amy-”

“No, just let me talk.” She took a deep breath.

“But, Amy-”

“I’m in love with you, Jake!” The words spilled out of her mouth like a fountain of idiocy, and she froze.

Jake’s eyes widened, shock overtaking his expression. His shoulders stiffened, as if he almost didn’t believe her, and his mouth gently formed around the word, “ _What?_ ”

“I’m in love with you.” she ran a hand through her hair stressfully, “I love you, Jake. I-I daydream about being with you. You make me laugh, you make me happy. Even though you drive me fucking crazy all I think about when I’m with you is pulling you against me and kissing you until we both can’t breathe. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything until now.”

He was still staring at her in awe, and her heart ached at the expression on his face. His big brown eyes were earnest, crinkling up at the ends as his mouth formed into a wide smile, accenting the little dimple in his chin. She’d never seen him look this way before- pure and completely unencumbered _joy._

“You _love_ me?” He asked breathlessly.

Amy nodded, “Yes, Jake. I love you. But- I waited too long and now you’re going to _die-”_

“Actually.” Jake cut her off, raising his hand, “I’m fine.”

Face screwing up in confusion, Amy asked, “Huh?”

Jake walked over to the coffee table and picked up his mug, still beaming, “I got your message. While I was waiting for you, I chatted Ramos up. He made me some tea.” He held up the mug to her, where a fizzy orange liquid could be seen from inside, “When he excused himself to the bathroom, I dumped the poison tea and filled it with my very own special drank.”

“The emergency orange soda.” Amy’s voice was hollow with realization.

“I was putting on a little show to wrangle a detailed confession out of him.” Jake chuckled, “I think he thought I was dumb.”

“So...you’re...not dying?” Amy could barely string a coherent sentence together at this point.

“I _tried_ to tell you but you were pretty insistent on your lovestruck tangent.” He shrugged.

Fucking _shrugged_.

She’d thought he was going to die so she confessed her love for him, and he was here, _shrugging._

Without consciously meaning to, Amy’s arm launched out and she punched him in the bicep hard enough to make the mug clatter to the floor. Orange soda spilled out all over the carpet.

“Ouch! Damnit Santiago, what the hell!?” Jake grabbed his arm with a hiss of pain.

“I hope it hurt, you ass!”

“It did!” He rubbed his arm sorely, grimacing, “Lucky I love you, damn.”

Amy paused, eyes zeroing in on his face, “What did you say?”

He grimaced, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “Aw c’mon...like you didn’t already know that.”

“You love me...too?” She repeated in disbelief.

Jake sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, “Duh, Santiago. I’m like stupid in love with you, it’s embarassing.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. Jake loved her too? And he was fine? And they’d just...admitted their feelings for eachother, and both felt the same way?

“Oh.” Was all she could muster.

“Eloquent.” he replied with a smirk.

Amy scowled, “Cut me some slack, Romeo. I’m still recovering from thinking you’d be dead by now.”

“Is this gonna take much longer?!” Ramos’ voice whined from behind the bathroom door.

“Murderers don’t get to complain!” Jake yelled back to him, shaking his head as if to say ‘ _the nerve of some people.’_

“So...what now?” Amy asked, gnawing on her lower lip unsurely.

Jake chuckled, “We bring this guy back to the precinct for processing?”

“Don’t make me hit you again.” Amy warned, nearly fed up with his bullshit.

“Alright, alright.” Jake sighed gently, and his expression grew serious, “Look, Amy, I really, really like you. I want to be with you too. If you’re serious about this thing...then let’s do it, right? I mean I know you don’t want to date cops, but I think that’s a dumb rule, because we’re pretty damn good together, and-”

Before he could finish, Amy cut him off by taking his face in her hands and pulling him against her. Their lips met, and she felt him relax into her, his own arms circling around her waist. Being pressed against him felt so good, so natural and so right.

Amy had imagined this so many times, but none of her daydreams could compare to the reality of kissing Jake Peralta. He held her tight and firm, but still let her take control and lead as their tongues met smoothly. His mouth was soft and tinged with the taste of orange soda, which didn’t gross her out as much as she expected. She could smell his crisp, inviting aftershave. It was incredible.

After a moment, they seperated, and he murmured, “Noice.”

She felt herself laugh somewhat breathlessly; she’d probably gotten all the genuine emotion out of him that he could manage for one day. It was an accomplishment, if anything.

“You frustrate me to no end.” she told him, “But, I think I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Lucky for me.” he smirked, then seemed to remember something, “Hey...I’m sorry for leaving you earlier. In the car, I mean. I should’ve just let you drive.”

“You should’ve.” she nodded, “But it’s okay. Sorry for calling you the worst driver in the world.”

He frowned, “Did you?”

“Oh. Maybe that was in my head.”

Jake rolled his eyes and pulled away from her, but the smile on his face and the contentedness in his eyes didn’t abate. It was nice to see him look so peaceful and happy. He had a chip on his shoulder most of the time.

“Great solve, by the way.” he gestured to the bathroom door, “We should probably get him back so you can brag about this to everyone else.”

“Probably.” she agreed, grinning at him.

They went to release Ramos from the bathroom, reading him his Miranda rights as they toted him out of the apartment down to Amy’s car. Jake gave her a quick peck on the nose before heading off to his own car, saying he’d meet her at the precinct.

Her cheeks were still flushed red when she got behind the wheel.

“So he’s like your boyfriend?” Ramos asked as they began driving.

“Shut up.” she said to him coldly. But yeah, he was kinda right. Maybe Jake Peralta was her boyfriend now.

She didn't think she'd ever get used to hearing that, but still, she could do much, much worse.


End file.
